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Archive for the ‘tools’ Category

Well, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t come up with the other $1,000 we were short for my husband’s tuition. I made a joke to my husband about selling his tools – he didn’t think that was funny and quickly hid the most expensive ones just in case.

I also joked that my husband should perhaps skip this semester…

Considering this is his last semester before graduation, he thought that was even less funny.

We tried to negotiate with the school in person again. Turns out, the staff is just as unfriendly face to face as they are over the phone.

So…I was forced to make the call I was dreading. I had to *gulp* call Bank of America and ask for money. Even though the card was thoroughly shredded, I had not yet permanently closed the account.

I did stumble when they asked, ‘Has the card been lost or stolen?’

‘Um. Scissored?’ I answered.

They were more than happy to Fed-Ex me a new set of cards…

with a higher credit line and a zero percent interest rate.

Apparently we’re both a little desperate.

My brother’s father-in-law is selling his second home here in San Diego. He lives in Northern California, isn’t particularly interested in trying to move a living room set, and needs a little help in the process. My brother called and asked if we wanted the couch set with the caveat that we take the hot tub in the backyard to the landfill.

Slightly desperate for couches that don’t smell like dog pee (thanks to the house-sitting incident)… cancel that… DESPERATE for couches that don’t smell like dog pee, I called my husband to ask if he could do the job.

(For those who are wondering why we didn’t get some cheap couches off Craigslist yet, I read a Time Magazine article about bed bugs that gave me cause to think twice about touching other people’s furniture. At least I know this set is bed bug free.)

I called my husband to ask if he’d be willing to do the job – assuming he wouldn’t. Silly me. I forgot who I married.

I told him the story and he said, ‘Does the hot tub work?’

‘No sweetie, it’s old. It just needs to be thrown away.’ I said.

‘But is it broken?’ he asked.

‘I’m pretty sure’

‘Could I fix it?’

‘No. We’re…’

‘But I could try’

‘Um. Let’s just take it to the…’

‘I’ll call our neighbor to help. I’ve always wanted a hot tub.’

‘Honey, I only want the couch set. I don’t want a broken hot tub…’

‘I think I have some concrete in the garage. I could pour a pad over the weekend. Tools! I’ll need to pull out my tools. I’ll borrow the tow trailer from grandpa…’

I could hear him furiously scribbling on his note pad.

I clicked END on my cell phone. My part of this conversation was obviously over.

The best part about my husband, he can fix anything. The worst part about my husband, he can fix anything and he knows it.

All I wanted was a couch that doesn’t smell like pee. Now I’m knee deep in a broken hot tub with a husband happily puttering around with his tool belt envisioning outdoor sports watching and beer drinking while sitting in his hot tub.

Sometimes, that man can really make me laugh.

[[ Thanks Stef. I really appreciate the couches]]